Sure, Why Not?

There’s a belief that every little girl is a princess, or should at least be told she is. What does it mean to be a princess? Who knows? Adults think it’s an endearing thing to tell little girls and think it’s just adorable when they act upon it. How? They idolize Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, Ariel, Jasmine, or whoever else, wear clothes with them on it, and dress up like them, for Halloween or otherwise. I myself was Snow White for Halloween at age five. But what did this princess ideal mean? Really, it comes down to the little girl being an object of affection, particularly from males, usually her father, but in the older form of the princess, this includes boys her own age perhaps, or at least the expectation of such. She was special, to be pampered and showered with gifts, and her only job was to sit there and look pretty and cute.
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1. Make students work like dogs
2. Make students work like dogs even more
3. Make students work like dogs still more
4. ????
5. PROFIT!!!!!

So when I was at work earlier, was after hours but a few of us still there, my coworker (he’s Chinese, which I mention because it’ll be relevant in a sec) got to chatting with me and other coworker (Indian) and talked about all the activities his kids usually do over the summers. Usually they were stuck into all kinds of summer camps and whatnot. Basically, their summers are just as if not more busy than the school year. Coworker went on talking happily about it, even saying that if they weren’t, they’d just be indoors sitting in front of the TV or a video game. He went on to mention that this year he might not do the summer camps but instead get them into some kind of tutoring for math and English. At this point, I asked how old his kids were, and he said they’re 9 and 11. I didn’t ask whether their grades were subpar or anything to have merited the tutoring, but from how the conversation continued, I figured otherwise. Tutoring was not for improvement of grades. It was to keep up studying momentum, to keep the flow of studying and homework going. Hell, not even to necessarily speed up the kids’ progress in the subjects. Just to keep them doing it in general.
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I hereby decree…

The live bar performer will play Margaritaville.

Without exception, without fail. Or no, very much with fail. This song is way overplayed. Some loser with a guitar who got fortunate enough for some Saturday night bar gig where he’ll spend the evening badly covering various popular songs will soon enough stumble upon this Jimmy Buffett ballad.

People eat it up, as they often do with the most tiresome, clichè acts. “ZOMG, awesome, he’s playing Margaritaville while we’re in a bar, he’s liek sooo kewl!”

What other gems shall we hear? “Closing Time” perhaps? Maybe even “Tub Thumpin’”. Or, perhaps not, those are too recent. Still bar songs. Even if played, not the least bit creative, but with Margaritaville, shit, song’s old so everybody knows it and you don’t piss off the older bar goers who want to pretend the year 1980 has not yet come.

All I wanted was to go to a restaurant on some evening, but in the restaurant’s bar they have some gay ass live band or whatever. Margaritaville will be played. That train is never late. I mean, the song stops being clever after the second or third time you hear it, if it ever was. Playing it over and over just speeds up the brain damage the bar people are already on the verge of with their copious alcohol consumption. Ugh.

(Speaking of retardedness, prepare yourself for like 500 comments all saying “ZOMG, finally, a new entry!”)

This has been Day 45 of the 100 Days of Summer, Round 8.